Three Little Pigs
by Wake-Unto-Me
Summary: When Red's grandmother is attacked by the Queen's henchmen, Red must go on a journey to discover why Regina wants her dead and how she can avenge her grandmother. With some unexpected help from the Queen's Huntsman, Red will have to come to terms with what she is and what her true feelings are if she is to find the pigs that hurt her Granny.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This is my first fanfic EVER, so please review! It would really help me out and encourage me to continue the story if any of you enjoy the concept. I always regretted that the writers killed off Sheriff Graham so early when he had so much potential****! Am I the only one who thought that he and Ruby would have been so cute together? Anyways, hope you enjoy****!**

********Disclaimer: It goes without saying that I don't own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters - Graham wouldn't be dead if I did...**

The crisp autumn wind whipped fallen leaves through the forest and over the narrow dirt road, forming a soft carpet that covered the bootprints and ruts from carriage wheels that had traveled the same road. Strange whistles and howling noises resounded through the tree tops as the wind increased its speed. Red shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around herself, but it was a shiver generated from the cold rather than fear.

The sounds of the forest were no longer frightening to her; her sharp hearing and sensitive nose could quickly sort out the source of the commotion, whether it was an owl or snake out for the hunt, or a small chipmunk or mouse trying its best not to become something else's dinner. She tried to ignore the soft staccato steps that indicated a small deer was nearby; even when she wasn't a wolf, her stomach growled hungrily when prey was near.

Red remembered when she had first met Snow White, and had told her friend that she could track anything if she wanted it. Red had always felt a connection to the forest. Before, she had assumed that it was because she had lived at the forest's edge her whole life, in a tiny cottage that barely served as protection from the forces of nature.

Most of the men in her village were hunters and woodcutters, and even the children often preferred exploring the woods rather than finding games indoors. It was not uncommon for women to be adept at tracking and hunting, so Red had thought nothing of it.

Now, however, she knew it was more than just her upbringing; that the forest called to the wolf inside her.

A shudder ripped through her as it always did when she thought about what she was, and the pain she had caused. Faces swam up at her out of the dark recesses of her mind – the faces of the men in hunting parties that the Wolf had ripped to shreds without hesitation.

Those first few nights after she had found out the truth had been unbearable; she had yearned for death, for anything to end the agony of her guilt. If it hadn't been for Snow, she might have harmed herself irreparably as penalty for all that she had done.

"_Kill me, please kill me," Red begged. She curled in on herself and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the crushing guilt and sorrow. She wanted to scream, to break things and throw herself against a wall until she lay broken and bleeding on the ground. Every time she fell asleep she saw Peter's face staring back at her accusingly. It was as though she could still feel his blood on her hands. "Please, Snow, please kill me."_

_Snow simply cradled Red's shaking body against her own and stroked her hair. "It wasn't your fault, Red," she murmured soothingly. "You have to forgive yourself; it wasn't your fault."_

_"All those people," Red moaned, barely hearing the other girl. "I killed them all. I killed so many. I killed fathers, husbands, brothers. I killed Peter." Red tried not to imagine how Peter had felt in his last moments, but the images assaulted her anyways – Peter wrapped in cold chains and watching the woman he had grown up with transform into a monster, and the sharp teeth that cut off his pleas by tearing his throat out. Snow gently dabbed at Red's tear-stained cheeks with a handkerchief._

_"I'm here for you," she whispered softly in Red's ear. "You can't give up. I need you. Your grandmother needs you. The Wolf may be a part of you, but it's not all of you. Never stop fighting, Red."_

Red looked down at the empty basket that had just been full of food. She was more than willing to help Snow out in any way she could, though right now that simply meant supplying her with fresh food a couple times a month while her friend hid herself away in the woods near Red's home.

She remembered when she had finally asked Snow why the young woman was on the run, and how she came to hide in their chicken coop when she had been frightened of the wolf's howling. Snow had told her all about her stepmother, and why she was wanted by the Queen. Snow blamed herself for the death of the Queen's former lover, though Red thought she was being ridiculous. She couldn't see how Regina's former lover had anything to do with Snow, or why she was being punished for it now.

Red vowed to forgive herself when Snow did the same.

The faint outline of the cottage appeared out of the darkness once Red crested the hill. A friendly curl of smoke wound up from the chimney. Red smiled, marveling at the inviting glow emanating from the few windows set into the side of the cottage.

Granny no longer insisted on closing the shutters now that Red knew the truth about what she was. Her smile widened the closer she grew to the only home she'd ever known. It wasn't that long ago that she had been dying to leave this place, to run away with Peter and never look back. Things were much different now.

"I'm back, Granny," Red called as she shouldered the heavy wooden door open. It gave a slight groan as she entered the tiny cottage. She set her basket down on a nearby table, but then jerked her head up violently as her nose was assaulted by an all-too familiar scent: blood.

"Granny?" she called out apprehensively, fear sharpening her senses. She followed the strong tangy scent into the kitchen, her ears pricked for the slightest sound. "Granny?"

The old woman was propped up morbidly in the kitchen chair surrounded by a pool of her own blood. Her eyes stared vacantly up through broken glasses at the ceiling while blood oozed out of various deep gashes all over her body, her dress stained a deep scarlet. Red screamed and rushed to the old woman's side, tears blurring her vision.

She rapidly sucked in deep breaths to help her stop shaking and focus on the problem at hand, but, combined with the over-powering metallic scent, only served to make her dizzy and nearly pass out.

"Granny! Please, please, you can't die! Granny, please wake up!" Red cried hoarsely, fumbling for her grandmother's hand, which was slick with blood. She continued to mumble random assurances and pleads with her grandmother, but the old woman would not stir. Red let out a loud wail, but was cut short by an unexpected noise.

She halted her keening and cocked her head to make sure she had heard correctly, then pressed her ear against the other woman's chest. Her grandmother's heart gave a faint flutter; barely audible, but it meant that she was still alive.

Red scrambled for some cloths to staunch the blood, but once she got back she realized that there were too many open wounds to cover.

Fighting back her rising hysteria, she tried to rack her brain for anything that might help. Surely there must be some herb or remedy that could restore her grandmother. The hope that had formed inside her leaked away painfully as she realized that the injured woman's wounds were too severe.

The only thing that could bring the near-dead back to life was –

Magic.

Red had heard stories of miraculous recoveries made with the help of magic. The villagers told tales of sinister magicians and powerful warlocks who could perform the impossible, but most of the stories were of men who had lived centuries ago. She didn't know who could help her now.

A name slowly surfaced out of the jumbled mass of her panic-laden thoughts. She forced her mind to concentrate, to remember the name of the man who might be able to help. He was the one the villagers feared the most. He was the one used as a scare tactic for little boys and girls who were naughty.

"If you ever try to steal a piece of pie before dinner again," Red had once overheard a woman telling her young child in the street, "the Deal-Maker will come and snatch you out of your bed at night, and no one will ever see you again."

The Deal-Maker. The Trickster. The Dark One.

Her eyes widened as the information she needed abruptly came to her, and despite her throat already being scratched raw, she screamed out the name at the top of her lungs.

"Rumplestiltskin!"


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for the reviews! They made me super happy. Okay, so, yeah. A little change of perspective here. This probably won't happen too many times throughout the rest of the story - I'll try my best to just stick to Red. But things just happened. Regina's probably the most complex character besides Rumplestiltskin on the show. I planned on writing just a few paragraphs from Regina's point of view to introduce the Huntsman, but she wouldn't stand for my one-dimension portrayal of her; she insisted on becoming a chapter... You know how it goes.**

****Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Once Upon A Time characters, or anything from the show. I do however own a very comfortable pair of fuzzy socks. **

Small glass phials tinkled in a deceptively sweet tone as Queen Regina ran her long, slim fingers gently over them. Liquids and semi-solids of all different colors filled most of the containers, but some simply waited to be filled with their own potions.

Her eyes lingered for a moment on one filled with a rich purple liquid that glowed darkly, the magic within gently pulsating.

Sometimes Regina forgot why she loathed her stepdaughter with such ferocity. True, the Queen had hated the girl's father; her heart felt no regret in removing the old fool from the picture. It was also true that the little girl had been responsible for the King noticing her in the first place.

But this particular sleeping potion... it would be true, unadulterated torture. Even if the girl were to miraculously break the curse somehow, her spirit would most likely be irreparably broken.

As her mind wandered, however, her thoughts began to stray closer and closer to the things she had long ago forbidden herself from ever thinking about, though every once in a while the suppressed memories would bubble to the surface like a heated pot of water boiling over.

Warm summer nights spent in the stable, with cracks between the boards of the roof allowing a few stars to peek through, came to the forefront of her mind. It was one of the only places she had been truly happy. Regina could almost hear the horses snorting softly, and the musty smell of damp hay.

She groped blindly for a chair to seat herself in as the memories started coming to her faster and faster. Most were happy ones, but some made her shudder to her core and forget herself for a moment.

Regina had been quite independent as a child, much to her mother's chagrin. Cora had had little tolerance for her adolescent daughter; she did not like that which she couldn't control. When she was younger, Regina had assumed her mother simply had a short temper and an inclination to find fault in her daughter. It was only later that she realized how much Cora feared being unable to keep a leash on her.

Cora, with her vast and mysterious powers, had seemed to know everything about Regina when she was young. The little girl had never been able to even take food from the kitchen at night without her mother somehow knowing about it. It had encouraged her to be an obedient child at all hours, but as the years went by and her independent and curious spirit grew, she began to rebel against her mother in small ways.

Regina had always been proud that she had been able to hide her feelings for Daniel from her mother. Her triumph grew when she had found out that Daniel felt the same for her, and still Cora had not the faintest suspicion. The older witch had just assumed that her daughter was going through a phase of individualism that would soon pass.

For those few years, Regina had known true happiness. She knew what it meant to love, and to want to devote oneself entirely to another living being. Their inevitable marriage had never been in doubt. The only future she could envision for herself was one with him in it. She knew that she would someday be free of her mother, free to live her life in the manner of her own choosing, free to love Daniel for the rest of her life.

Watching him die was the most painful thing she had ever endured.

It was as though her mother had reached into Regina's own chest and tore out a piece of her heart. She had half-expected to look down at herself and see the open gash where her blood and soul would be gushing out in a torrent. But there was only Daniel, a lifeless husk tossed morbidly down at her feet.

Regina had been less adept at suppressing her memories during her reluctant wedding night. She knew it was her duty to lay with the King and produce a male heir. But that didn't stop every one of this stranger's strokes and touches to cause Regina to recoil slightly, still freshly marred by the image of the lifeless Daniel. To the King's credit, he did not scorn or chastise her for being so unwilling, and tried his best to be gentle.

But that didn't stop him from performing his right as her husband and marking her as his own. When he thrust into her for the first time, she thought her entire body was being torn in two, and those few fantasies of her future escape that she had desperately clung to were dashed away painfully each time Leopold moved inside her, until there was nothing left of the innocent and loving young woman who had dreamed of freedom.

Regina had never been intimate with Daniel, or any other man, before. She had wanted to save herself for her wedding night, and Daniel had been just as willing to wait. In a morbid way, her wish was granted.

An abrupt knock at the large mahogany doors snapped the Queen out of her spiraling dark thoughts. To protect herself from madness, she cloaked her mind in the best defense she had: anger. Now that she had control of her thoughts again, she was somewhat grateful that she had been reminded of exactly why Snow White deserved to be punished. Pure loathing radiated off of Regina as she thought of her spoiled and selfish stepdaughter who was so naïve that she was completely blind to how she hurt everyone and everything around her.

Regina wanted Snow to feel the same despair and helplessness that the Queen herself had suffered at the hands of her mother, of her husband, and to some extent, at the hands of the wretched brat herself.

"Enter," she called out, rising from the chair and working to tamp down the flush of anger in her cheeks. She drew herself up fully so that her posture and demeanor would give her another precious few moments to compose herself.

The doors were pushed open, and in stepped a handsome young man clothed in animal skins and furs. He had a quiver of arrows strapped to his back and several hunting knives hidden about his person.

"You're late," Regina snapped at him by way of greeting.

"My queen," murmured the huntsman, bowing slightly at the waist.

Regina strode slowly towards him, savoring the slight tightening of the man's jaw as she steadily approached. Even though she had his heart, he was still afraid of her, which was just the way she liked it. _He _was the helpless one, not her.

She would never be helpless again.

"Are you interested to hear why I summoned you?" she purred, running the blade of her finger along the side of his face.

The huntsman smiled dazzlingly, but it didn't reach his eyes, which remained as impassive as ever. Although he served as her plaything, she knew that his thoughts would always be his own, that he cloaked himself in his own mysteries. In a way, the Queen respected that about him. "Your wish is my command, my lady. Who is it you wish me to dispatch?"

"You don't think I would send a hunter after a human when I have a network of assassins at my fingertips, do you?" Regina barked, throwing her head back in a dark chuckle.

"Then, what is it you want from me?" the man asked in confusion, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

The Queen bared her perfectly straight teeth in a cold grin. "I want you to bring me a wolf."


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, that took me a lot longer than I wanted to publish a new chapter. I warned you about my sporadic free time, although hopefully it will be much better in the future. I'm not making any promises, but I'll do my best. Thanks for all the reviews! I'm sure you all appreciate how much they mean - keep 'em coming!**

****Disclaimer** I do not own OUAT or any OUAT characters. It would be really cool if I did, but alas. **

"Rumplestiltskin!"

Nothing happened. Red held her breath as long as she could, but still the magician did not appear.

"Rumplestiltskin!" she called out again, her hoarse voice breaking on the name. "Rumplestiltskin, please!"

"Oh, you said the magic word, dearie," a voice cooed behind her.

Red jumped at the suddenness of his arrival. It wasn't easy to sneak up on her; normally she could tell if someone was approaching her from a mile away. She took a deep breath and reminded herself of the foreign nature of magic, and how it might be the only thing that could save her grandmother.

If it could save Granny, she was willing to try anything.

"Now, what seems to be the trouble, dearie?" Rumplestiltskin asked in a cheerful voice, acting as though he couldn't see the mangled body in front of him, or the puddle of blood slowly oozing towards his boots.

Red squeezed her grandmother's hand tightly and gazed imploringly at the strange man in front of her. Physically he was rather small, but she could feel the power radiating off of him, making him seem much larger and twice as dangerous. "Please, I need your help. Can you save her?"

The trickster's gaze flicked down to the broken woman in the chair for the first time. His eyes raked over broken body, the open wounds still seeping blood, the stained and tattered clothing. Red could not read his expression. There was nothing malicious in his eyes, but neither was there sympathy.

"Even magic has its limits," he muttered. Red struggled to keep her composure in front of the magician, although she couldn't stop a few errant tears from slipping down her face.

"No," she begged, knowing that it wouldn't do any good, but she couldn't help it. "No, please, there must be something. Please, I'll do anything."

"Magic has its limits," Rumplestiltskin repeated. But before Red could say anything else, he winked at her and continued, "Although this is not one of those cases."

Red was torn between slapping him with all her might and throwing her arms around him in an embrace. She might have done both if she hadn't been too reluctant to let go of her grandmother's hand.

Rumplestilitskin knelt down beside the old woman, his eyes flicking up to meet Red's. "Of course, there is the matter of payment." Again, it didn't sound as though there was malicious intent behind his words, though there was a certain note of mischief. Perhaps Red was just imagining it.

"Anything. Name your price," she insisted, nodding.

Instead of replying, his eyes fell back to the woman. He mumbled a few low words that Red could not hear, and placed his hand on her grandmother's forehead. The old woman suddenly drew in a deep breath, much too strong for the condition her body was in.

Red could hardly tamp down her rising euphoria as hope blossomed in her chest. Rumplestiltskin reached into an inner pocket on his dragon hide jacket and pulled out a small vial. Its contents began to glow a dull orange as he dipped his finger into it and rubbed its contents across one of the deeper gashes.

Nothing happened for a moment, but soon the skin started to bubble and pull itself back together as though being stitched together by an invisible hand. Red gasped in amazement – the skin looked as though it had never been marred.

Rumplestiltskin continued to rub the potion over all the cuts, the skin knitting together like before. By the time he was finished, over half the bottle had been emptied. The old woman's eyes fluttered open, her hands darting up to her face as though protecting herself from invisible enemies.

"Granny," Red breathed, stroking the woman's hair back from her face. Granny's eyes flashed around for a second before landing on her granddaughter.

"Red? Are you hurt? What happened?" Granny questioned, struggling to sit up in the chair. Red put a reassuring hand on the woman's shoulder.

"It's alright, Granny, I'm fine. And so are you. You're going to be alright," Red gushed, too happy and relieved to ask her grandmother details of what happened. The old woman nodded slightly and let her eyes sink closed. Within a minute she was lightly snoring, the wrinkles in her face smoothing back slightly to give her a peaceful look that Red rarely saw.

Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat, reminding Red of his presence. He was lounging casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. A corner of his mouth lifted up when he had Red's attention.

"Thank you," Red whispered quietly, knowing he could hear her. He nodded in acknowledgment. "What can I give you in return?"

Rumplestiltskin pushed off the wall and strode slowly towards her. Red stood up, marveling again at how large he seemed despite being shorter than she was. The whole room seemed to shrink in comparison with the man occupying it.

"There are two parts to the matter of your payment, neither of which is beyond your capacity to provide," Rumplestiltskin began. Red swallowed, and nodded for him to continue.

"First, there will be a time when I shall be in need of your special talents." His eyes bored into hers, making sure she knew what he meant. She did. "I shall only call on you once, but you must be ready whenever and to go wherever."

She didn't bother wondering how he knew what she was – there were too many mysteries surrounding the trickster for her to worry about a small matter like that. She nodded once again in agreement. It was a small price to pay for her grandmother's life.

"And secondly, you must recommend my services to the one with whom you are closest, besides your dear grandmama, of course," he said with a small flourish of his arm in mock grandeur. "Do we have a deal?"

Red nodded once more, though she was thoroughly confused. It was such a strange term to name, but once again she realized that it was nothing in repayment for her grandmother's life.

Rumplestiltskin grinned, flashing all of his pointed teeth, before disappearing as suddenly as he had come.

Red leaned over her grandmother's sleeping form and gently scooped the woman up into her arms. Although she did not look very strong, the Wolf gave her heightened abilities as well as senses. The frail woman seemed no heavier than a sack of potatoes to Red.

Normally, the tough old bird would never stand to be held and carried like a baby, treasuring her independence. But she didn't even stir as her granddaughter carried her over to the soft bed where she normally slept. Red carefully tucked the worn quilt around her grandmother's sleeping form and kissed her tenderly on the forehead, right where Rumplestiltskin had cast his magic into her.

As soon as she was sure that her grandmother was sound asleep and out of danger, Red crept back into the kitchen. Her eyes took in the immense puddles of blood that ran across the kitchen floor. It seemed unbelievable that so much blood had come from one person, and that that person could still be alive.

Whoever had done this had clearly left the old woman for dead, or had believed her to be already dead. If it hadn't been for her sharp sense of hearing, Red might have thought the same thing.

She grabbed the mop that leaned against the stove and ran it across the floor, wringing the blood into a large tin bucket. Now that she knew her grandmother would be alright, she could think about who had done this.

Her vision turned red as pure rage flooded her entire body. The Wolf howled and seethed inside her, aching to be released. She set down the mop for a minute and tugged her cloak tighter around herself as her skin began to tingle.

She took several calming breaths as she attempted to marshal her thoughts. She stepped out of the cottage and stood outside, sniffing the cold air. Her senses told her it would rain soon.

Red made a complete circle around the cottage, keeping her nose low to the ground like a dog trying to scent out rabbits. It would have been a comical sight for someone if they had walked up the road and saw her.

Finally, at the back of the cottage, under her grandmother's window, Red picked up a foreign scent. It smelled like sweat, body odor, and leather. She pawed at the ground until she spotted a faint boot print that was almost unrecognizable – whoever it belonged to had painstakingly scrubbed behind them with a branch to mask the prints.

Red stared longingly out into the woods, wishing she could immediately set out and track the monsters down. The trail was fresh enough that she wouldn't even need to transform to follow the scent.

But her grandmother needed her. Red couldn't leave her now while she was still recovering, and while danger might still be lurking. She was fairly certain that the attack on her grandmother was meant as a message for Red, or perhaps it had been meant to be Red's death. In any case, if the pigs were to somehow find out about Granny's survival, the old woman would be as good as dead again, and this time they would definitely make sure to finish the job.

Red reluctantly headed back into the cottage to finish mopping the floor. If she left within the week, the Wolf would still be able to follow the trail.


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Alright, this is the first (and most likely last) time that I've included direct dialogue from the show - please don't sue me, ABC! After this chapter it'll start to veer into AU, since I don't plan on including all her adventures with Prince Charming in this story. I hope you enjoy it :)**

****Disclaimer** I don't own OUAT or any of the amazingly awesome characters therein. If any of you reading this do actually own the show, call me - let's have lunch.**

"I told you before, don't remember anything. One minute I was sitting at the kitchen table, and the next I woke up in my bed with you hovering over me like a mother hen. It's not like I was asked any questions," Granny muttered with a scowl, scrubbing the empty pot that had recently been full of stew harder than before.

It had been five days since her grandmother had been attacked. Red had sat by her bedside, feeding her broth and willow bark tea to help her regain her strength. Granny's wounds had been completely healed, but only in the last couple days had she even had enough strength to pull herself out of bed.

Red had asked her grandmother about the assault before, with the same response.

"Please, Granny," she begged, "just tell me what you had been doing earlier that day. Anything might help."

"Now Red, I don't want you putting yourself in danger on my account. I forbid you from tracking those men down," her grandmother insisted sternly, fixing Red with a steely gaze that left no room for disagreement. Red tried anyway.

"Please, Granny, I need to do this," she whined, struggling to keep the wheedling note out of her voice. Somehow Granny always made her feel like a child again, and she had to restrain herself from throwing an actual tantrum. She turned on her heel to stomp back to her room.

Suddenly, it registered in Red's mind what her grandmother had said. She wheeled back around and stared at the old woman still scrubbing away at the pot. "Granny, did you say 'those men'? As in, more than one?"

It was what Red had suspected anyway – the scent was too pungent to belong to only one man, and it was unlikely that one person could get the better of Granny. Even in her sleep, the old woman could disarm, batter, and truss up any attacker who was foolish enough to try and raid the cottage.

Granny clenched her teeth, a stubborn set to her jaw. Red rushed to her side when it appeared the old woman wasn't going to acknowledge the comment.

"Granny, I'm not going to hunt them just out of revenge," Red reasoned, clasping one of her grandmother's hands. "If they learn that you're alive, they might come back. And they might not have even been after you. I need to know why they did this. I need to know."

Red closed her eyes after she finished speaking, afraid to see her grandmother's reaction. She wanted to hunt down those men more than anything in the world, but if Granny forbade it, then she would stay. She wouldn't take the only family she had for granted again.

When she opened her eyes, however, the expression on her grandmother's face surprised her. The elder woman still had a disapproving set to her brow, but there was something else there too – resignation? Perhaps even a hint of… pride?

Granny sighed and sat down in the same chair Red had found her in almost a week ago.

"There were three strangers in town that day wearing Queen Regina's armor," she began quietly, looking more exhausted than Red had ever seen her. "I went to buy some yarn and flour, and I saw them in the square watching me. In hindsight it was almost like they were trying to figure out who I was.

"Of course, at the time I didn't pay them any mind. I went back to the cottage and started making dinner for when you got back. It had been a few hours since I'd been in town, so I didn't think anything of the strangers.

"I heard a noise outside the window. I thought that it was probably you, but just to be sure I decided to grab my gun. When I turned around I could see a pair of yellow boots before I felt a sharp pain in my back. I turned my head in time to see one of the men slicing me across the stomach with an ivory blade. Then one with a glass eye stabbed into my shoulder—"

She stopped when she caught sight of Red's expression. Red felt like she was going to empty her stomach, or faint, or both. She couldn't bear to think of her grandmother in that much pain. The old woman frowned, and finished, "—and then I blacked out after that."

Red reached out and grabbed her grandmother's hand, trying to swallow past the painful lump in her throat. "I don't want to leave you, Granny. But I have to leave tonight or the trail will grow cold. It's now or never."

The old woman was quiet for a few minutes, her fist supporting her chin. Finally, she looked back at her granddaughter with a determined set to her jaw. "You must only hunt at night. It's too dangerous during the day. Don't trust strangers, and don't eat any food you didn't catch yourself. Don't tamper with magic. And when you find the men, don't torture them. Either kill them or let them go, but never stoop to their level."

Red stood up excitedly and threw her arms around her grandmother in an embrace. "I won't let you down, Granny. I promise."

Her grandmother hesitated a moment, then stroked Red's hair. "I… I'm very proud of the woman you've become. Please be careful."

Red pulled back from the embrace with tears in her eyes, smiling at her beloved Granny. Then she set about packing what she would need.

She ended up with two bags. One had her precious red cloak carefully tucked into it, along with an extra dress, some matches, Granny's special blend of tea leaves, a leather canteen, and a small kettle. The other was crammed full of food and a thick blanket for Snow.

It didn't take her long to find her friend. Snow's scent was all over this copse of trees; she was lucky the Queen's knights didn't have Red's sense of smell. As she stepped out the meadow, Snow suddenly materialized in front of her, spear lofted over her head.

"Hey!" Red called out. "It's me."

Snow sighed in relief and lowered the spear. "Sorry, it's just that I wasn't expecting you back for a month."

"I have to go on a journey, and I don't know how long it will take," Red informed her, then proceeded to tell her about her grandmother's attack.

"That's awful!" Snow gasped, looking horrified. "How on earth did she survive?"

Red chose not to answer. She didn't want Snow getting tangled up in something as treacherous as magic. "Enough about me, why don't you ask the question you really want to?"

It worked; Snow was so thrown off that she didn't notice the subject change. "I… don't know what you mean."

"Come on," Red sighed, knowing Snow desperately wanted to hear the news that Red herself had only just heard in town earlier that week while Granny was still recovering.

"Okay, fine. Tell me," Snow replied, lowering her gaze to the ground and fidgeting with her spear.

Red hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. "The wedding is happening. Prince James is marrying Midas' daughter… in two days' time."

Snow looked more miserable than Red had ever seen her. The banished princess's eyes glistened slightly with unshed tears. "I just thought the longer I was out here the easier it would be to forget him, but all I do is think about him."

"I'm sorry," Red murmured in sympathy.

"I just wish there was some way to get him out of my head."

Red desperately wanted to help Snow; she hated seeing the other woman in this much misery. Although they had only known each other a few months, Snow was already like a sister to her. Red had felt that intimate connection with the girl since the first night they met.

Like a clanging bell, the promise she had made Rumplestiltskin came back to her. _You must recommend my services to the one with whom you are closest…_

Red did not want Snow bargaining with Rumplestiltskin. But she had to uphold her end of the deal, and maybe it was the very thing that could help her best friend.

Snow seemed to notice Red's internal struggle. "What, is there? Red, what do you know?"

Red hesitated a second too long. If there was another way…

"Come on, I helped you when no one else would," Snow argued with a fierce glint in her eye. "What do you know?"

"Well… there are whispers," Red began, not wanting her friend to know that she was part of Red's payment. "Whispers of a man who can achieve even the most unholy of requests. A man who could do what you ask."

"Who is this man?" Snow whispered.

Red paused, and then answered, "His name is Rumplestiltskin."


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: A little interesting change of perspective, as you'll see - this was pretty fun to write. I figured that if Red thought of the Wolf almost as a separate entity, then the Wolf probably thinks the same thing. ... I guess that's all I really wanted to say for this... hope you enjoy.**

****Disclaimer** I don't own OUAT, OUAT characters, or any OUAT merchandise. That would be cool though; a Sheriff Graham t-shirt or something. Ah well.**

Red headed back to the spot by her cottage that she had first caught the scent. Her human nose could detect nothing now, but she knew the Wolf could. Sighing, she shed her dress and petticoat as quickly as she could and tucked them into her leather bag. She slipped the strap of the bag around her neck, and then crouched down low to the ground.

It wasn't easy at first, but soon she felt her skin start to bubble and stretch. She could feel the Wolf's joy at being let out, so she allowed It to take over the rest of the transformation and it _felt so good to be out._

_She jumped once in the air for joy, tipping her head back and letting out a playful howl. She looked back at herself – how good it was to see her own tail again! And all her beautiful fur! It made her want to flip onto her back and roll in the carpet of leaves under her paws._

_But the Human had wanted her to do something. What was it? She hoped it was to catch some rabbits for dinner – she loved rabbits. And squirrels. Sometimes she would even be crafty and snag a fluffy little lamb from a local farmer, though she knew the Human hated it. _

_She needed to focus. There were so many delicious scents in the air around her. A mother doe had passed nearby, but that had been hours ago - probably too late for her to track the tasty morsel down. Oh, goody, her ears pricked up at the sound of snuffling nearby, perhaps a possum or a wild pig or…_

_Pig. The pigs that hurt Granny! She loved Granny, even though Granny made her feel alone and unwelcome - Granny seemed to like her better as a human, and gave the Human that cloak to stop her from changing when she should. Still, she had to help Granny._

_Now that she had focused her mind and knew what to do, she lowered her nose purposefully to the warm soil and tried to sort through all the scents. There were oh so many, but she remembered the scent from before – leather, sweat, testosterone, aggression… There it was! It was old and had almost gone stale, but her clever nose picked up what would otherwise have been missed._

_She howled happily again, thinking of the hunting dogs she had met who chased the same rabbits that she did. That made her angry. Those were her tasty rabbits! These were her woods! Who did those little puppies think they were? Sometimes when she got really angry she would make a tasty meal out of the dogs instead of the rabbits, a warning to the others not to mess in her territory._

_But she mustn't think about eating dogs or humans or delicious lambs, because the Human didn't like it. And now the Human remembered everything, had much more control. She couldn't eat anything she really wanted to because the Human would punish her for it later, not letting her out and blaming her for things she didn't do._

_She followed the revolting Man smell for several miles before deciding it was safe to hunt for dinner. The moon was bright overhead now, although tonight it was only a sliver. She liked it much better when it was fat and full. It made her blood sing._

_She tried her best to stick close to the trail. If she hunted out too far, she might lose the scent. Luckily, she could smell a nearby family of rabbits – one of the only meals the Human was alright with her eating. She snapped her teeth and chased the rabbits from their hole with a snarl and swipe of her paw – they looked so surprised! Even more so when she grinned at them and gobbled them whole._

_Once her belly was full, she wanted to lie down and nap for an hour or two. She was exhausted from running all day and carrying this stupid sack that the Human wanted for some reason. But the Human didn't want to stop – she wanted to keep following the trail until she found at least one of the men._

_Maybe just a few more miles. It wouldn't take long. Surely the Human couldn't be mad at her for wanting to rest, especially after all the running she did today. Already the trail smelled fresher – she was gaining on the silly men! She hoped the Human would let her stay out when she found them - she wanted them to pay dearly for hurting Granny._

_At last she paused to sniff around her to see if this was a nice and safe place to sleep. She didn't know how long the human would let her stay out and play, but she couldn't bring herself to worry about it when she was just so tired._

_Something sharp sliced into her. She shrieked and whimpered in pain as the right side of her body turned numb. She turned her head to see what had happened, but the effort made her too dizzy and she fell heavily onto the ground. _

_She could see her own blood flowing out quickly and matting into the fur on her leg, but didn't have enough energy to lick it away. She couldn't stop herself from whimpering and whining, although she didn't like how weak and vulnerable it made her sound._

_A man emerged from behind a thick tree and walked towards her. The Human's fear equaled her own, for both of them knew what other humans wanted to do to something like her. The Human was still angry with her for what she had done to that group of men with the pitchforks and guns that had come to her cottage. But what was she supposed to have done? Rolled on her back like a submissive puppy and let them kill her? _

_The man got too close to her – she snapped at him with her teeth, hoping he couldn't see how scared she was. It was hard for her to distinguish human facial expressions, but for some reason the Human thought that he looked sad because of his glassy, squinted eyes and deep frown._

_"I'm so sorry," he murmured, the Human translating his words. "Thank you for the gift of your life and –"_

_He stopped suddenly when he laid a hand on her neck. She was too tired to bite at him again, but she thought that she felt his hand on the strap of her bag._

_Her theory was confirmed when he gently pulled the bag off of her – it was a relief to be rid of it. He looked inside it and saw the Human's clothes, frowning in confusion. He pulled out the Cloak to see what was underneath it and it accidently fell over her and she _moaned as her skin shifted. Now she could clearly see the arrow that must have been silver-tipped sticking out of her back near her shoulder blade, and the copious amount of blood that was seeping out of the open wound.

The strange man stumbled back with a cry, landing comically on the ground with his legs still kicking out. For a second Red wondered if he had known what she was when he shot her.

But of course he knew. How could he not? She wondered idly if it would be harder for him to kill her now that she was human again. The look in his eyes made her suspect so. There was nothing she could do about it anyways, though. She was too exhausted to even swat her hand at him when he walked over to her again, slower this time.

"Please," she whispered, not knowing why she said it or even what she was asking. The man's eyebrows shot up, but Red didn't see the rest of his reaction before she lost consciousness.

Red didn't know how much later it was when she woke up. The searing pain in her shoulder had receded to a dull throbbing. She opened her eyes to just slits, not knowing what to expect.

There was a small fire crackling near her face, with her own kettle suspended over it. She moved her limbs tentatively, surprised when she discovered that she wasn't tied up in any way. She opened her eyes all the way to fully take in her surroundings.

She was lying in the same clearing that she had been attacked in. It looked like a camp site had been erected around her. There was a small tent with a large pack propped against one side. It took her a second before she spotted the man sitting across the fire, watching her. He had a clay bowl in his lap that was steaming.

She moved to cover herself, but realized that she was already dressed. Her cloak was tied around her shoulders loosely, and one sleeve of her dress was pulled down to reveal a cloth bandage wound tightly around one shoulder.

Red gazed with equal intensity at the strange man. Neither of them seemed to want to be the first to break the silence. Finally, though, he reached forward and offered her the steaming bowl. She eyed it warily before accepting it. Though she had eaten the rabbits, the healing had taken a lot of energy out of her, and her stomach rumbled at the smell of the thick stew.

"I've heard stories of your kind," the man said abruptly, causing Red to jump slightly at the sudden noise. "Though I've never had the privilege to meet one."

Red wasn't sure how to respond. Finally, with a hard edge to her voice, she replied, "You didn't seem to act like it was a privilege when you shot me."

The man seemed to consider her words for a minute. "So you remember all that happens when you are a wolf? Good. Now I can bring you to the Queen with a clear conscience."

Red sat up so quickly that the stew slopped over the rim of the bowl. "The Queen? What does she want with me?"

"Many villagers from these parts have travelled to the castle, begging the Queen to rid them of the wolf pestilence that eats their livestock and children in the night. She sent me to kill it and bring her the pelt."

"I've never eaten a child in my life," Red huffed indignantly. "The villagers like to make up stories."

"Some of the stories I've heard involve whole hunting parties being massacred. Do you deny that you've ever killed a human?"

Red opened her mouth to reply, but a flood of memories came back to her from when she and Snow had found all the bodies of the villagers near their well. She squeezed her eyes against the bloody images.

"That's what I thought," the man murmured with a nod.

"I didn't mean to," Red answered, wanting to defend herself, though she knew in her heart that she deserved any punishment the Queen doled out. "It's only recently I've learned to remember what the Wolf does and control it. I didn't even know it was me doing all those things until…"

She trailed off, Peter's name dying on her lips. It had been a while since she had allowed herself to think about him, and a single tear slipped out before she could tamp down the memory and quickly swipe it away. The man's mouth twisted slightly at the sight.

"Anyway," she continued, "that was months ago. I haven't done anything to provoke the villagers since then. In fact, before tonight it had been two and a half months since I last let the Wolf out."

"That's… not the information I heard," he said with a frown.

"Well your information was wrong," Red snapped. She sniffed the contents of the bowl again and then raised it to her lips, taking a large gulp. It was delicious. Finishing the contents quickly, she continued. "So what are you going to do about it?"

The man's frown deepened as he considered his options. Finally he answered, "I cannot disobey the Queen. Even if what you say is true, I must still bring you to her."


	6. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks are owed to The Iz, who pointed out that Red would already be dressed after she transforms back into a human - a real shame, since I feel like that could have led to great things later on between the two ;****). Stupid TV-PG rating... **Hope you're enjoying the story so far :). It's nice to know there are other Red/Huntsman shippers out there.

****Disclaimer** I do not own OUAT or... eh, what's the point?**

Red's eyes narrowed dangerously. The Wolf inside laid her ears back and fluffed her tail. "What if I refuse? I could just transform back into a wolf, you know."

The stranger sitting across the fire from her shrugged his shoulders. "Then I would hunt you down and kill you. The queen did request that I bring her the pelt of a wolf. However, once she learns what you are, I'm sure she would accept that I brought her a human girl instead."

"I could overpower you," Red growled.

"I'd like to see you try," he replied with a slight smirk.

"I'm stronger than I look."

"And I have nothing left to lose."

Red gritted her teeth and struggled to marshal her thoughts. He did have a strange, desperate look in his eyes, like he was capable of doing anything. She would be lying to herself if she thought she could bring herself to slit his throat in his sleep. And if he was talented enough to hunt her down the first time, it would be all too easy to follow her trail directly away from the camp site.

Besides, didn't she want to meet the queen? If she had been the one to send those men after her grandmother, Red needed to confront the woman to find out why she had committed the atrocity.

Her mind made up, she leveled a hard gaze at the man. "Alright, I'll go with you quietly. I won't put up a fight or try to run, on one condition."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "And that is?"

"My grandmother was attacked and almost killed by three of the queen's men. One had yellow boots, one had a glass eye, and one had an ivory blade. Before you turn me in to the queen, you must help me track them down."

The man's eyes widened. Red caught the look and gasped. "You know who they are?"

"I know who they are," he replied after a moment's hesitation. "They are three of Regina's mercenaries, specializing in torture. Verraco, the one with the ivory blade, is her head assassin. I don't know where Cerdo is, but Avorton lives on a farm not far from here – probably two days' walk."

Red's mouth popped open in surprise. "So you'll help me?"

"I… I will help. If you keep your word and come with me quietly," he finally answered. Red gave a tiny smile.

"Thank you," she murmured, meaning it. He raised his eyebrows slightly, looking surprised and uncomfortable.

"You can sleep in the tent. I'm more comfortable out here anyway," he said, making a slight gesture with his arm to encompass the whole forest. She nodded, appreciating the offering of privacy, though she also felt more comfortable out in the open.

She set the empty bowl down and stood up to walk over to the tent.

"Wait," he called, causing her to turn back to face him. "What's your name?"

"Red," she answered. "They call me Red, because of my cloak. What's yours?"

"You can call me Huntsman," he replied.

Red tried not to feel disappointed as she ducked into the tent. Of course he didn't trust her enough to give her his real name. She certainly didn't trust him. In fact, she mentally kicked herself for giving him the name that everyone called her; "Red" might as well _be_ her name.

She listened to him douse the fire and settle down onto the ground. Soon the only things she could hear were the sounds of the forest. She could hear nearby scuffling, the hoot of a barn owl, and a lone wolf howling in the distance. Soothed at last, Red drifted off to sleep.

She was woken up by the feeble rays of the rising sun and the smell of her grandmother's tea brewing over the fire. She smiled without opening her eyes, glad that Granny was finally strong enough to wake with the sun and make breakfast.

"Good morning," she murmured, knowing her grandmother could hear her.

"Good morning to you too," a male voice replied. Red's eyes popped open and she sat up hurriedly, the memories from yesterday coming back to her in a flash. She stared openmouthed as the Huntsman grinned at her from outside the tent.

Swallowing her embarrassment, she crawled out of the tent and sat down in the same spot she had had dinner. She inhaled again the spicy scent of the tea blend. "That's my tea and kettle. Why did you go through my things?"

"I noticed them last night," he answered, and Red remembered how he went through her bag when she was a wolf. "I haven't had tea in months, and your blend smelled particularly good."

"It's my grandmother's," Red replied. "She used to make this tea every morning."

The two sipped their tea in silence. After Red had drained her cup, she reached up to her shoulder and gingerly unwound the bandage. Underneath, the skin was an angry pink, but there was no blood or scab. A thin white line was the only indication she had been shot at all.

"That wound looks weeks old," the Huntsman muttered, his eyes widening at the sight. "If I could but have your ability…"

"It's one of the very few perks of being a wolf. Trust me, it's not worth it," Red replied bitterly.

The Huntsman looked unconvinced. Finally, he stood up and quickly swiped some dirt from his breeches. "We should get going if you want to find Avorton before he's summoned back to the castle."

Red nodded, gathering her things and packing them carefully into her leather bag. The two set out as soon as the huntsman had disassembled the tent and stowed everything into his own packs.

They traveled in silence for most of the day. Red attempted to strike up conversations, but whenever she asked the Huntsman any questions his answers were usually stilted and awkward. She gleaned very little from him, which disappointed her for some reason she couldn't explain.

"So why do you have to bring me to the queen again?" Red asked during one of these rare moments of conversation.

"As I said before, too many villagers came to the castle with complaints of the wolf terrorizing their livestock for Regina to ignore. She asked me to hunt down the wolf and bring the pelt to her. I must say I had anticipated it would take longer to find you, but you turned up only a couple days after I began my hunt."

"It would have taken you longer if I hadn't been on a hunt myself," Red muttered. "But that wasn't what I was asking. What I meant was, why can't you simply disobey her orders? We all have choices."

"Not for me," the huntsman muttered. He wouldn't elaborate, so Red decided not to press him for details. It would have been nice to have something to occupy her mind, but she didn't want to get too emotionally attached to this man who was, after all, perhaps leading her to death at the hands of Queen Regina.

They very seldom rested, which Red didn't mind; she wanted to get to this Avorton as soon as possible. But by the time the sun began to set and they decided to set up camp for the night, Red felt sweaty and exhausted. She yearned for the copper tub in her cottage and Granny's lavender-and-honey scented soap.

She and the Huntsman ate quickly, both wanting a full night's sleep before they set out again in the morning. But once Red was inside the tent, sleep wouldn't come. She felt dirty from the long day's travel, and nervous about what she would do tomorrow when she confronted Granny's attacker. Would she have to kill him? Would he know where Cerdo was?

Red did want revenge for what they did to her grandmother but, after all, Granny had survived. And besides, Red was no killer. She had experienced what it was like for the Wolf to take lives, and there was no way she could do that as a human.

After a couple hours of unsuccessfully trying to sleep, Red decided to go bathe. They had passed a river not too long ago, and she thought she could make it there and back with still several hours left for her to sleep. She grabbed her leather sack and pulled out the extra dress and undergarments she had packed.

She stuck her head out of the tent and peered around to see where the huntsman was. She spotted him a couple feet to her right with his head propped up on his pack, snoring softly.

As silently as she could, she slipped out of the tent and walked around the other side of the campsite, slipping quietly through the trees.

It wasn't long before she heard the soft burbling of the river ahead of her. As she drew closer, she could detect the lapping of some animal at the water's edge. Once she emerged from the woods, she saw a large light grey wolf eyeing her warily.

For a moment she wondered if it was like her, but when she sniffed the air she detected only wolf smell. The other children of the moon she had met smelled differently, a strange mixture of human, wolf, and something else. She shook away the thoughts before memories of her mother could fully resurface.

The wolf had had its ears laid back suspiciously, but after it lifted its nose to the air, they perked up in curiosity. It trotted closer to her with its head cocked. Now that it was closer, Red could smell that it was distinctly male.

The wolf got a few inches away from her, and then approached with more caution. Red slowly extended her hand, palm up, so that he could smell her completely. His tail wagged slightly, and he licked her palm playfully.

She smiled at him, and then began to carefully strip off her sweaty clothes.

"I'm going to go wash off now," she told the wolf. "Will you watch for danger for me? You never know what's out there."

The wolf dutifully trotted over to the edge of the river and sat down on its haunches, gazing intently into the forest. Red finished undressing and stepped gingerly into the river. The cold water shocked her at first, but she grew used to it as she waded out deeper.

At its deepest point, the river rose up just above her navel. She tipped her head back and let the gently flowing water saturate her hair. She rubbed the water into her face and neck, wishing she had had the forethought to pack some soap.

The wolf gave a slight bark behind her. She turned around and saw the Huntsman emerge from the woods hurriedly right where she had been. She shrieked and crouched down so that only her face and neck were above the water.

The Huntsman's mouth hung open in surprise, and he openly stared for a minute before pulling himself together. Whatever he had been expecting, this clearly wasn't it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Red shouted, trying to hide her embarrassment. She rarely cursed, but this seemed an appropriate time.

"I… I thought you were running away," he stammered, clearing his throat. The wolf wagged its tail happily at the sound of the man's voice, surprising her.

"Well, I'm not," Red snapped. "So if you don't mind, could you please return to the camp? I'll be done in a minute."

The huntsman's gaze lingered for a moment longer before he shook his head and turned on his heel without a word.

Red's face burned with embarrassment, and she hoped that he hadn't been able to see her flushed cheeks in the dark. She remained in the cool waters for a few more minutes before finally emerging and quickly dressing.

When she made it back to camp, the Huntsman was lying in the same place he had been before, once again snoring slightly. Red didn't fall for it this time, though. She ducked hurriedly into the tent and tried her best to fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry about the wait, guys. Classes have been super crazy, and my free time has pretty much disappeared. Hopefully this chapter is worth it. There is some graphic violence in this, so if you're averse to that, you've been warned. That being said, I like how this chapter turned out a lot better than I thought I would. It's by far the longest, and I hope I can keep up that length for the remaining chapters. I might even go back and combine some of the older chapters if I'm feeling really ambitious. Hope you enjoy it :].**

****Disclaimer** I don't own OUAT or OUAT characters or a jet pack or a mini giraffe or a personal cappuccino machine or a talking animal sidekick. *sigh***

The air grew unseasonably warm overnight, and the sun broke through the thin layer of clouds that had seemed to be a permanent fixture in the sky lately. Red basked in the feeling of the warm sunlight shining on her as she exited the tent and sat down by the fire.

The Huntsman was frying some sort of meat over the fire for breakfast. The smell wafted over to Red, making her smile and sigh.

"Is that ham?" she inquired, inhaling deeply.

The Huntsman nodded, looking pleased. "I caught a small boar this morning. I figured it was a nice change from rabbits."

It had been ages since Red had had pork. She always caught dinner for herself and Granny to save money; why buy a pig from a farmer when she could bring in a whole deer? But she had to admit that she missed the taste of farm animals.

The Huntsman ladled a few strips of ham onto a small clay plate and silently handed it over to her. Red tried her best to look ladylike as she ate breakfast, but when she reached down for another strip a few seconds later her hand only touched the plate. Had she eaten all of it already?

She looked up at the Huntsman, who was trying to hide a grin behind his hand. She tried to look dignified, but after a moment gave up and licked her fingers clean. The Huntsman snorted and handed her his plate of ham.

"No, that's alright," Red told him, halfheartedly pushing the plate away, though she desperately wanted it.

"Take it," he said, pushing it back towards her. "I have the entire pig left. I'll just cook more."

Red looked toward the spot he had indicated with his hand and saw several large hunks of meat wrapped in wax paper. When he said it like that…

They both ate their fill, Red rubbing her stomach contentedly as the taste of bacon lingered in her mouth. The Huntsman grinned at her in amusement, but strangely Red felt no self-consciousness. They sat in pleased silence for a few happy minutes before the Huntsman finally rose to his feet and packed what was left of the pig carefully into one of his packs.

"Do you sell the meat you don't eat at markets?" Red inquired as they began walking once more towards Avorton's farm.

He nodded. "That was what I did, until the Queen appointed me her 'Head Huntsman.' Now all of my kills are served directly at her dinner table. Although, she hasn't let me hunt in a few weeks. I've never enjoyed killing, but I have to admit I've been terribly bored lately."

"Why doesn't she let you hunt if you're her huntsman?" Red asked, confused. "What do you do all day?"

"I…" he began, seeming to be unsure of how to answer. "Reg… the Queen, she… well, I share her bed." He flushed as he mumbled the last few words.

Red stopped in her tracks, her mouth hanging open in shock. "Wait, are you telling me that you're the Queen's concubine?"

"Concubines are women," he snapped, flashing a withering look at her. Still, he didn't deny her statement.

"Unbelievable," Red muttered, walking forward again. She didn't know what else to say, but the silence was so unbearably awkward that she tried to quickly think of another topic. "You didn't seem afraid of that wolf at all last night. Did he know you?"

She was strangely pleased by the Huntsman's blush at her reminder of the last night's encounter. "Yes, he is my brother. I have known him since we were both pups, and we share all our kills with each other. I have no greater friend in the world."

Once again, Red was pulled up short by the unusual statement. His eyes glanced back at her in annoyance. "We're never going to make any progress if you keep stopping like that," he exclaimed.

"Sorry," she murmured, resuming her pace. "I've just never met anyone so attached to wolves. And you called yourself a 'pup'. Who are you?"

"A man who used to be honorable," he answered, his voice almost a whisper. Red was surprised by the bitterness behind his words. She was starting to learn when she had struck a nerve in him, and recognized that he would say no more on the subject.

She hadn't kept track of how long they had been walking, but the sun was at its peak when the woods began to thin. She blinked in the sudden sunlight as they emerged from the woods at last. Green and gold fields stretched over rolling hills before them, reminding her of the quilt on her grandmother's bed. And there, less than a mile away, was a large red barn and a small farmhouse with a straw-thatched roof beside it.

They picked their way carefully through the hay field leading up to the house. Red held back a sneeze as the small pieces made their way up her nose. The closer they came the lower the Huntsman began to stoop. By the time they were mere feet away he had fully crouched and was completely hidden by the tall hay. Red was impressed with his stealth.

They stayed hidden in that position for a few minutes, watching the house for signs of life. Finally, Red saw a short figure pass leisurely in front of the kitchen window. She looked back at the Huntsman, a worrying thought crossing her mind for the first time. "Does he have children?"

"No, he lives alone," the Huntsman answered, shaking his head. Red sighed in relief, but her anxiety stayed. What if he had had a family? What would she have done? And for that matter, what was she going to do now. She took a deep, shaking breath before rising out of her crouch.

"What do you plan on doing?" the Huntsman asked her, not moving from his hidden spot.

Red didn't answer him, not knowing what she planned to do herself. Instead she snuck quietly over to the dirt path that led to the house, and then strode purposefully up to the front door. She knocked on the door a couple times, tossing back her hair.

A short, portly man opened the door, his dark hair pulled back from his head with a piece of string. He wore baggy breeches that looked three sizes too big for him, and a dirt-stained tunic that was belted around the middle with a strip of burlap. His expression had been suspicious when he first peered out of the doorway, but melted into surprise as he regarded her.

"Well, what brings a beautiful maiden like you to my humble doorstep?" Avorton asked as his gaze travelled hungrily up and down her form. Red fought back a shudder as she organized her thoughts.

"Good afternoon sir," she began, trying to be polite and charming. "My name is Red. I was hoping—"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before Avorton's expression immediately changed again. He slammed the door in her face while she was still mid-word. She stepped back in surprise, and then anger bubbled up in her. The Huntsman sprinted up to her as she began to pound furiously on the locked door. "Let me in!"

The Huntsman gently pushed aside before kicking the door in with a loud _bang._ They rushed into the farmhouse, only to find it empty. Red sniffed, but the man's pungent odor was everywhere. The Huntsman ducked quickly through all the rooms, but came back empty-handed. "He must have jumped out a window. If we hurry we could still—"

Red held up her hand, cutting him off. She could have sworn she had heard a noise that was out of place. It was silent for a moment, but then she heard it again; a shuffling noise coming from somewhere beneath their feet. "There!" she cried, pointing towards the kitchen. They dashed to the room, Red straining her ears to pick out the noise again. She raised her head, sniffing the air to see where the scent was freshest. Her nose led her to a rug in the corner that had been hastily pulled into place. She ripped the rug away to reveal a trap door underneath.

The Huntsman flashed an impressed look at her before ducking quickly into the hole. Red followed, ending up in a dark tunnel with a faint glow at one end moving farther away. They ran as quickly as the cramped tunnel would allow. Red wasn't sure if Avorton knew that he was being pursued, but his short stature gave him a clear advantage in this confined space that forced Red and the Huntsman to stoop slightly as they ran.

The tunnel soon came to an abrupt end. The Huntsman was the first to emerge, Red close behind. She was momentarily blinded by the sudden flood of light, but her eyes were quick to adjust. They found themselves in what must have been Avorton's barn; large bales of hay were stacked against the walls and in the loft, as well as multiple scythes, rakes, and balers. Red tried to pick up the assassin's scent, but her nose immediately clogged up with tiny pieces of straw.

The Huntsman had already darted to the left, however. He leaped behind a bale. There was a loud squeal before he emerged, a struggling Avorton in tow. The short assassin thrashed and kicked out with yellow boots at the Huntsman, shrieking all the while, but the larger man silenced him with a sharp punch to the side of the head. Red winced, but said nothing.

The Huntsman dragged the assassin across the floor, flinging him down in the middle of the barn. He pulled out a large hunting knife that he had tucked into his boot and held it against Avorton's cheek.

"This young lady here would like to know why you attacked her grandmother," the Hunstman told the squirming man, lowering his voice almost to a whisper. The assassin's lips trembled, but he defiantly gazed back at the Huntsman. The knife bit into his cheek, causing him to start squealing again. Red looked away, but tried to steel her nerves. She had come all this way for his answer; why wouldn't he just tell her?

"Do not make me ask again, Avorton. Who ordered you to kill that woman? Was it Regina?" the Huntsman pressed, pulling the knife away momentarily. Avorton glared up at the other man, a large bead of blood running down his cheek.

"If it was the Queen, you know that I fear her much more than anything you can do to me," the assassin answered, spitting in his captor's face. The Huntsman gritted his teeth and responded by dragging the knife slowly down Avorton's chest.

"Stop!" Red cried, almost drowned out by the assassin's screams. The Huntsman look back at her in disbelief.

"I thought this is what you wanted," he exclaimed.

"Not this," Red answered, shaking her head. "This isn't right."

"Red," he said sternly, using her name for the first time, "you told me what he did to your grandmother. Look me in the eye and tell me he doesn't deserve this."

Red leveled a steady gaze at him. "No one deserves this."

The huntsman's disbelieving stare changed into something close to shock, and perhaps a touch of respect. He looked at her for a few moments as though trying to figure her out, and then slowly released his grip on Avorton.

He stood up, glaring down at the puny man. "You are a lucky man not to have crossed someone less forgiving than Red. If it were me…" he let the sentence trail off before turning away from him in disgust. Red breathed a sigh of relief as he walked over to her.

She turned towards the door of the barn, but a slight scuffling sound made her turn back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Avorton jump to his feet and pull a wickedly curved dagger from a sheath at his hip. There was no time to alert the Huntsman, but he must have seen the panic in her eyes, because he wheeled around and slashed the assassin across the throat. Avorton's eyes widened in surprise for a grotesquely long minute before his knees buckled and he landed face-first into a pile of straw. The huntsman kneeled down and wiped his blade clean on the dead man's tunic.

Horrified, Red wheeled around and bolted for the barn doors. She didn't think through her actions; she just knew she had to get away. Pushing past the doors, she ran blindly as fast as she could from the barn. As she made her way through the fields she could hear the Huntsman close behind her. She had made it almost a mile before he finally caught up to her. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, but she struggled to break out of his grasp.

"Red, I'm not going to hurt you," he panted. He held her until she had calmed down enough to stop struggling against him. "I only killed him because I had to. You saw that he tried to strike first."

"And did you torture him because you had to?" Red shot back, though she didn't move away from him.

"I thought I did," he muttered, having the decency to look contrite. "I'm sorry."

His unexpected apology made Red think over her own actions. "I'm sorry, too. I know he would've killed you if you hadn't stopped him. I overreacted."

The Huntsman's expression shifted back to the one he had before, a mix of shock and respect. His words came out a murmur. "I've never met a human as honorable as you before."

Red winced and looked down at herself. "I'm not human," she mumbled. She felt him move closer to her, but she still didn't look up. His rough hand gently cupped her chin, guiding her face to look up at his.

"You're right. You're something better," he whispered, then brought his lips down to press against hers. Red's eyes widened, her brain sputtering to a stop. The sensation was so pleasant that her eyes fluttered shut against her will, her hand rising to touch his cheek. She hadn't kissed anyone since Peter, and that felt like so long ago now…

She broke off the kiss abruptly, Peter's face swimming painfully in front of her closed eyes. She opened her eyes and looked at the Huntsman in dismay. "I… I can't."

"I'm sorry," the Huntsman replied, looking equally shocked and dismayed with himself. "I don't know what came over me."

"No, no, it's not you. That was…" Red couldn't finish the sentence, but decided to tell him the truth. "It's just that I've only ever kissed one man before, and I… I killed him." She squeezed her eyes shut against the memory of Snow dragging her away from Peter's torn limbs and entrails. The same nausea and utter disgust rose up in her that she had battled for so many weeks. The same self-loathing settled in her, making her turn away from the Huntsman. She didn't deserve any kind of happiness.

"We better get going if you're going to bring me to the Queen. You shouldn't keep her waiting," she muttered over her shoulder, striding out in the direction she believed the castle to be in, leaving the Huntsman standing speechless behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Finally, the moment we've all been waiting for! So I've known what I wanted out of this chapter when I was in the middle of writing the last one, and consequently have been seriously procrastinating actually committing to it. Sorry it took so long, and that I'm a wuss. I did my best to keep it classy and romantic, so please let me know in a review if it was in good taste and whether you enjoyed it or not.**

****Disclaimer** I do not own OUAT or any OUAT characters. I swear I haven't been lying this whole time.**

The fields of hay gave way to fields of corn, then rows of meticulously planted fruit trees, and then back into another stretch of woods. It was part of the forest they had been in before, though the trees in this part were much thicker than in the other, and Red had to pick her way carefully through them.

The Huntsman had eventually caught up with her, but hours later they still hadn't spoken a single word to each other. Red was having trouble marshaling her thoughts with the Huntsman this close to her, which only encouraged her to walk faster. _You didn't have a problem with it before,_ she reminded herself sternly. _Just act normally. Nothing's changed._

Except that everything had changed.

While they walked, she stole glances out of the corner of her eye at her companion. She tried to focus on the memory of those long fingers gripping the hunting knife that had slashed Avorton's throat, but her mind would jump involuntarily instead to the memory of them touching her chin, her cheek. What would those fingers feel like tangled in her hair? Would they stroke the back of her neck in small circles before trailing down her shoulders to gently cup her breasts and –

_Stop it, you silly girl,_ she scolded herself. _What the hell is wrong with you?_

Through a gap in the leaves overhead she could already see the moon rising, though sunset was still hours away. It appeared that tonight was the first night it was full. She couldn't believe she hadn't been keeping track lately. _So that explains it. I'm not going crazy, _she thought with relief. The moon always got into her blood and made her act in strange ways.

It looked to her as though the Huntsman was also going through some sort of internal struggle, though she could only guess at what it was over. His hands constantly clenched and unclenched, and once in a while he would squeeze his eyes shut for a moment and give a slight shake of his head.

"Maybe we should set up camp," the Huntsman suggested when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, breaking the silence. Red nodded in agreement, shrugging her leather bag off and rubbing her sore shoulder. The Huntsman didn't look at her, instead busying himself with erecting the tent and arranging stones in a makeshift fire pit.

The Huntsman cooked hunks of meat from the pig he had caught this morning, almost finishing off what was left. Red sat down excitedly, inhaling the savory scent. Breakfast felt like it had been a lifetime ago.

"I've been thinking about something Avorton said," Red confessed around a mouthful of pork. It was true that she had been thinking about it, but it had actually only crossed her mind for a moment earlier before her thoughts had distractedly jumped again. The nagging idea was beginning to resurface, however.

"And what was that?"

"When you asked if he was sent by the Queen, he told you that he was more scared of her than you. It seems to indicate that she really did send him, which you must have suspected to have asked in the first place." The Huntsman said nothing, so Red pushed farther. "So the Queen sent assassins to kill my grandmother and a huntsman to kill me. I just want to know why."

"I sincerely do not know the answer to that," he replied with a shrug.

"Then why did you think she sent them?"

He paused before answering. "Regina doesn't often care enough about peasants' complaints to actually do something about it. When she asked me to hunt down the livestock-killing wolf, I figured she must have had another motive. And since I found out what you were and what had happened to your grandmother, it just made me more suspicious. I was hoping you could tell me what she wants."

Red's thoughts swirled in confusion. It was true that she had killed villagers, as well as livestock, but if the Queen went after her granny then she must have known what Red was. And if that were the case, why not tell the Huntsman the truth?

Her thoughts were interrupted when her ears detected a twig snapping nearby. She tensed up before the oddly-colored wolf emerged from a copse of trees, wagging his tail playfully. Red smiled as he trotted over to her and licked her palm. She scratched him behind the ears before he went to the Huntsman, cocking his head in a playful way.

The Huntsman smiled and tossed the wolf one of the few remaining pieces of pork. The wolf snapped it out of the air with his powerful teeth, then came right back to Red. The Huntsman snorted. "So much for loyalty," he muttered.

They finished off the last of the pig, all three of them full and contented. Red stood up and stretched, considering finding another stream to bathe in, when the Wolf laid his ears back, lips curling back over his teeth. Red froze, sniffing the air to find out what was the matter. There was a faint, vaguely familiar smell at the edge of their camp, but it was downwind, making it almost impossible for Red to recognize it. Without thinking, she picked her way carefully over to the spot where the scent was strongest, the Huntsman only now rising to his feet.

Red reached the spot, glancing around in confusion. She turned back towards the Huntsman with a shrug, but saw his eyes widen in panic. Before she could react, something sharp sliced through her shoulder. She screamed and dropped to her knees, attempting to turn and face her attacker.

A thin, tall man dressed all in black stared down at her. She fought the urge to shudder as she gazed up into a piercing, blue eye that was filled with uninterested distaste, and an eye made completely of glass that was only slightly more lifeless than the blue one. _This has to be Cerdo,_ Red thought, panic welling up in her.

The blue eye raked up and down her body the same way Avorton's had, infuriating Red. She struggled to her feet, but before she made it very far, Cerdo dispassionately raised his wickedly curved hunting knife and thrust it down towards her. Red squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable pain when something heavy crashed into her side. She opened her eyes to see the Huntsman, who had pushed her out of the way, wrestling the knife out of Cerdo's hand above her, while the wolf snapped at the assassin's heels.

"Run, Red!" the Huntsman shouted at her, punching Cerdo squarely in the jaw. The assassin stumbled back as Red scrambled to her feet and took off running. She could hear the sounds of struggling behind her as she weaved through the dense trees. For once she was thankful for her wolf sight as she leaped over gnarled roots and fallen branches in the dark.

It wasn't long before she heard the Huntsman cry out in pain, followed by a heavy thud, and then silence. She pulled up short and wondered if she should turn back. It didn't take her long to make up her mind; she turned on her heel and sprinted back to the campsite, ignoring the pain in her shoulder.

Cerdo intercepted her before she had gotten very far. She gasped and leaped back, wondering where the Huntsman was. The thin assassin grinned and lunged at her. Red tried to duck out of the way, but he had somehow grabbed one of her wrists and twisted her arm behind her back. She cried out in pain as he wrenched it tighter, but elbowed him as hard as she could. He grunted and loosened his grip slightly.

She pulled away, but Cerdo recovered and came at her again. Red struggled to undo the knot on her cloak, but the thin man attacked before she could manage it. She lashed out, kicking at him and trying to claw at his face. But even with her heightened wolf strength, she was no match for him. The assassin seemed to be highly adept at hand-to-hand combat, anticipating her attacks and easily countering them. He caught both her wrists in one hand and pushed her against the trunk of a tree. He pressed his body against hers, preventing her from kicking out. She struggled against him, but it was no use.

"What do you want with me?" she exclaimed, meeting his intense, mismatched gaze. To her utter shock and horror, he grinned and leaned forward, licking the side of her face. She yelped and renewed her struggling, but it was no use; she was completely at his mercy and he knew it. With his free hand he reached under her cloak and roughly squeezed one of her breasts. She snarled in anger, feeling his hardened member press against her. She would keep fighting, no matter what.

He pulled at her skirt, sliding his hand underneath, but Red head-butted him as hard as she could. He cried out, stumbling away from her, and she slid to her knees in pain, the world spinning dangerously. Through blurred eyes, she could see him advancing towards her again, but she couldn't quite manage to get to her feet. He grabbed her by the cloak and pulled her sharply to her feet. She gasped and choked, fumbling at the knot again. Cerdo punched her in the face, still holding her by her cloak. It appeared that he was about to hit her again, but before he made contact the knot at her throat finally came undone.

_She felt the moon boil in her blood and give her strength she didn't know was there…_

Red's eyes fluttered open, taking in her surroundings. It was still dark, or perhaps an entire day had passed. She fought her rising panic, knowing that she was probably safe from Cerdo now. It had been a long time since she couldn't remember her actions as a wolf, and it frightened her more than it should have. Turning her head slightly to the left, her eyes took in the worried face of the Huntsman kneeling by her. His face melted into an expression of relief as he met her eyes.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, lightly brushing his fingers across where Cerdo had stabbed her. The skin looked red and puckered, but the wound had already healed. Red shivered from the sensation.

"I'm fine," Red answered, shaking her head. She glanced around and noticed that they were back at the campsite. The wolf sat by the edge of the fire, licking a shallow wound on its side. "Did you carry me here?"

The Huntsman nodded. "You were a wolf when I found you. There was a lot of blood on you, and I couldn't tell if it was yours or Cerdo's. I put your cloak back on you and you passed out after you transformed back."

"Is he dead?" Red whispered. Even though it was the only thing she could have done, it still made her sick to think that the Wolf had killed again.

Yes," he replied. "There, ah, wasn't much left of him when I got there."

Red swallowed against the bile rising in her throat, trying to convince herself that it had been the only way. She reminded herself of what the assassin was about to do to her, would have done if she hadn't stopped him.

The Huntsman stood up when he was convinced she really was all right, turning to rebuild the fire that had nearly gone out. Red gasped as she saw the blood matted in his hair.

"You're hurt!" she cried, scrambling to her feet. She remembered now his pained cry, why she had tried to return to the camp site.

"It's nothing really," he assured her, but she tore off a strip of her skirt anyway and pressed it against the side of his head. His words were contradicted by his wince at her touch. She dabbed as gently as she could at the wound, feeling the Huntsman's gaze on her the whole time. Her ministrations slowed as she met his gaze, his eyes full of wonder and longing. Red's breath caught in her throat, fighting the strange and sudden urge to brush her fingertips against his lips. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, his strong jaw and slightly curved nose outlined perfectly in the soft glow.

The Huntsman seemed to notice the change in her expression. He slowly reached up to the hand pressed against the side of his head and pulled it away, yet didn't let it go. He moved agonizingly slowly towards her face, as if asking for permission. Red answered by lifting her chin and pressing her lips against his. The kiss started off as innocently as their first, but then grew in intensity and passion until they were both left gasping.

The Huntsman's hunger seemed to equal her own; she thought perhaps that the moon affected him as well. She gasped in pleasure as he brushed a hand lightly over one of her breasts, and then gently cupped it. This wasn't the sadistic pain that Cerdo had inflicted – instead it was something pleasurable and amorous. Red arched her back to press into him, deepening their kiss even further.

The Huntsman groaned and trailed his hand lower and lower down her body until he lightly brushed over her core. The foreign contact jarred her slightly, making her pull away from him. He looked at her questioningly.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "It's just that I've never… and Peter…" The Huntsman's gaze softened slightly, showing that he understood what she was trying to say.

"You're not going to hurt me, Red. I trust you," he insisted, pulling her closer to him. She was still hesitant, but before she could pull away again, he leaned forward and bit her on the soft flesh between her neck and shoulder. She cried out in surprise, but his action had the desired effect. She snarled playfully and bit down on his Adam's apple. He groaned and grabbed a fistful of her hair, kissing her passionately once again.

They continued to nip at each other as he lowered her gently to the leaf-strewn ground. She arched into his every touch, moaning and making involuntary little sounds that embarrassed her, but appeared to encourage him. Her tongue and hands seemed to move of their own accord, exploring all the nooks and crannies of his body. He slowly undid the laces on her dress, careful not to untie her cloak. She, in turn, scrambled frantically at his jacket and shirt until his naked torso hovered over her.

She ran her hands wonderingly over his tight muscles, delighting in the feel of them. He sighed in pleasure and reached down to undo the knot at his breeches, then stopped. He looked at her as though realizing for the first time what was about to happen. "Are you sure?" he whispered, the uncertainty in his voice endearing to Red. In answer, she reached down and undid the knot herself.

While she did so, his hungry gaze traveled over her form beneath him, now completely naked save for her cloak. She was initially embarrassed, watching his reaction. He didn't seem disgusted or unimpressed, though; instead he looked just as awestruck as when she had stopped him from torturing Avorton. It made her smile and lift her face up to kiss him once again.

The Huntsman slipped out of his breeches and positioned himself over her. He pressed his hand against her core once again and slipped a finger inside her, causing her to moan and curve up to his touch. All uncertainty gone, he lifted her hips and guided himself into her.

Red gasped and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from whimpering. She felt like she was being split in two, although she was surprised to find that the sensation was not entirely unpleasant. The Huntsman paused as he saw the pain crawl across her face, but she reached up to cup his face and kiss him once again, encouraging him to continue by raising her hips up to him. He began to move inside her slowly as she got used to the feeling of him. With every thrust she rose up to meet him, mewling and gasping in pleasure.

She threw her head back as he started to move faster, her moans growing in volume. The Huntsman took one of her breasts in his mouth, rolling the tight bud of her nipple around his tongue. She cried out in pleasure, tangling her fingers in his silky curls. Her need swelled in intensity as his thrusts grew even longer and deeper. She raked her fingernails down his back, causing him to moan and shudder over her. He grabbed her hips and pulled her to him so he could reach even deeper inside her. The animal passion between them grew in a glorious crescendo until he was pounding rapidly into her, calling out her name, and she was screaming and rolling her hips forcefully against him. Pushing herself against him one last time, her need finally exploded in a bright display of fireworks behind her eyes. The Huntsman held himself over her, shuddering and gasping as his seed spilled inside her, and then collapsed on the ground beside her.

Red gulped for air, struggling to calm down. She curled herself around him, her hip resting against his. He stroked her hair gently while his breathing slowed as well. Their eyes met, and he leaned over to place a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"You know, women in my village always called that act a wifely duty, as though it were a chore," Red said conversationally with a contented sigh. "Personally, I can't imagine anything better in the whole world."

The Huntsman chuckled slightly and twined the fingers of his right hand with her left. "You are not like other women. This," he said, indicating her hand, "is just one of the differences."

"You noticed?" she gasped, looking down at their joined fingers. "Granny never discouraged me from using it as a child, although sometimes I wish she had. The villagers are all really superstitious, and I often overheard them saying that no good could come from a woman who favored her left hand. I guess they were right," she finished ruefully.

The Huntsman raised their twined fingers to kiss her hand gently. "They were completely wrong. You are kind and caring and beautiful. You have more honor in your left hand than those women have between them all. I cannot imagine someone more perfect."

Red smiled happily, resting her head on his chest. He rubbed his thumb in soothing, tiny circles on her shoulder, lulling her into a deep sleep.


End file.
